The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1887-01-07
A TRUST WELL KEPT.

| SeSs~ GesSssSAe 'SAueAAS oAAA ASAS0
in secret for months had burst it's
barriers at last, and was sweeping
along as though past allcontrol. The
| gallant old Colonel Pratt had paraded
his regiment in front OF his bungalow,
and. with his gray hair rippled by the
warm breeze, had expressed to them
his ill-founded confidence that, though
all the other Sepoys rose in rebellion.
they would never 1ise. His men whom
he always spoke OF as "his Children"
greeted his speech with ringing cheers.
Two hours later they had murdered the
veteran, and, under their chosen lead
ers, were marching to Delhi, their
band playing, with the curious incon-
sistency for which the mutineers from
first to last were famous, the English
national anthem, God Save the
| Queen" Allahabad had fallen. Every
officer at the mess table, with one ex-
ception, had been butchered by the
| servant who stood behind him, and
struck with his knife when the signal
was given. The one who escaped the
general doom, and who was called,
| when the story was told, the MARTYR
Of Allahabad," sprang through a
| window OF the mess room, and reach
ing the banks OF the Oranges plunged
in and swan for many miles; hiding in
the jungle during the day, and drifting
with the current at night; suffering in.
credible hardships, to die of native
fever induced by the exposure when
friends and apparent safety were reach
ed at last.
Other officers belonging to that i'll
fated mess escaped. Not many, and
those only because they were not at
the table when the murderous signal
was given. One of them, having been
hurrying to join his comrades. when a
woman stopped him by coming with
startling suddenness from the shadow
OF a clump of bamboos beside the
road. "Sahib, don't go on" shesaid,
speaking in her own language. "They
are all dead by this time. Boden
Singh was behind your chair, his knife
ready, and had you been in it
you would have been wish
Allah now. Boden Singh was
mad with rage, and waiting. He had
waited SO long that he said he could
wait no longer. He wanted to mur-
der you last night when you were
asleep on the charpoy, but told him
if he did SO it would not be easy to
get the officers all together at the
mess Moonlight, So he agreed to wait
a little longer and stab you in the
back, as the others were stabbed,
while he stood behind you at dinner.
He has killed somebody else by this
time, to make up for having missed
you. Yes, it is terrible, but why did
you put the grease on the cartridges?
All, here they come!"
The butchery was over, and troop
OF soldiers. accompanied by the SER
wants who had slain their masters,
were marching down the road, headed
by band playing "Rnle Britannia"
The woman who had spoken WAS
Pooniah, the wife OF the villain Boden
Singh. Boden Singh was the "bearer,"
Or body servant, OF the officer who
had been warned. was the officer.
"Quick, Sahib!" she exclaimed, hast
lily, as stood irresolute in the middle
OF the road. "They will see us in a
minute. Hide in the clump of BAN.
boos! And in moment we were
crouching there, side by side, while
the mutineers came on, marching
with that steady military step
that they had learned so well
from their English masters. They
had learned some other things, too,
from the same teachers, and in the
next few months they showed all too
plainly that the seed OF instruction
had not cast upon barren soil.
"Why did you put grease on the
catridges2" At that moment, with
life and death hanging about evenly
in the balance, those words and
their evil inferences were ringing
in my brain. Assuredly the pork
grease on the cartridges had in some
degree hastened the mutiny. The
cartridges of that day had to be bitten
before they were used, and both Hin
doc and Mussulman abhor the flesh
of the pig though the higher classes
eat imported hams and bacon, and
protest that they are not the same
meat at all. The Sepoys had gone on
biting the cartridges contentedly. and
with no idea that they were putting
the unclean thing into their mouths,
until the rebellious rajahs, watching
for such an opportunity, willy pointed
out the grievance. Several of the regi-
ments protested, and asked that the
grease on the cartridges be changed,
so as no longer to clash with their re-
ligious principles; and had the advice,
strongly urged, of the astute Sir John
Lawrence, then collector of Agra,
afterward governor-general of Indiu,
been taken these requests at once; but
India's rulers, in the pride OF a CEN
tury's almost undisturbed possession,
feared nothing, suspected no danger,
and drifted blindly on to the sharpest
crisis in England's later history.
A clump OF bamboos is good spot
for a fugative to hide in. It is an ex-
cellent place also for q party OF sold
iers to encamp by. The mutineers
thought so, and, throwing themselves
on the parched grass beside the road
twenty yards from where we were hid
| den, they began to smoke and discuss
in low, cautious tones, for they were
still distrustful of themselves and each
other, the prospects OF the desperate
venture to which they were now ire
trievabiy committed.
1t was quite light enough now to see
that Booen Singh was not with the
soldiers. Where had he gone to? 1
asked my preserver, in a whisper. "He
has gone to your bungalow" she re-
piled, significantly. "He expects to
find you there!"
Situated as ! then was, forwarned
and, therefore, forarmed, Twas sincere
| ly sorry that Boden Singh would not
| find me in my hllnpalnw